Fish-i-cide

There is something

so OFFENSIVE,
so HORRIFIC,
so DESPAIRING about our home,
that fish would rather OFF THEMSELVES than be a part of our family.

Or so it would appear...

Two years ago, we attempted a tropical fish aquarium. It was a beautiful tank, and we filled it with brightly colored fish. Each of us chose a fish to name. It was all great until Cleo turned into a bully and terrorized the other fish. She killed them one by one until only Lola the Shark remained.

Poor Lola! Cleo would chase her constantly, unmercifully, nipping at her, and taking chunks out of her body. Soon, it was too much for Lola to endure, so she JUMPED OUT OF THE TANK!

I'm serious. We found her flopping around on the ground. She found a small opening at the top of the aquarium and decided anything was better than living with Cleo.

I quickly threw her back in the tank, and she survived. Two days later, we were recalling the tale to friends, and we all looked in the tank. Where was Lola? We searched and searched until we concluded she was not in there! Finally, I pulled out the cabinet the aquarium was sitting on, and there was dried up, shriveled up, Lola. Once again, she'd managed to attempt FISH-I-CIDE. This time she was successful!

We gave up. Put Cleo and the tank on Craigslist and vowed to never own fish again.

Then yesterday, my girls said, "Guess what, Mommy? Our neighbors are going on a month and a half long vacation, and they chose US to fishsit David for them!!! Isn't that wonderful?"

No! That is not wonderful. Fish are not safe in this house!!!! Surely, our neighbors would ask me first. Right? They wouldn't expect us to take care of their fish without talking to the parents first. Right? Wrong!

Yesterday afternoon, I pulled my minivan into the garage, and there standing on our front walk was the dad, his two girls, and the fishbowl with David in it.

"You don't mind fishsitting do you?" He sheepishly asked. "We're leaving today."

I stumbled around, told him we had vacation plans of our own, but he assured me the girls would be gone for the month and a half, but he'd be back by Thursday.

I agreed, thinking, "How much could go wrong with one hearty little Beta fish in one week?" They skipped off, and I juggled baby, fishbowl, calendar, and fish food into the house, sure I was going to drop David before he even made it into the house.

When my girls got home, they were THRILLED to say the very least. A pet all their own! In their very own bedroom! To love for one whole week!

David spent the night here last night, and then this morning, Oldest Princess came down the stairs very worried. "Mama, I can't see David in his fishbowl anywhere."

I brushed her off, but she was insistent, so I went upstairs to investigate. Sure enough, I could not see that fish ANYWHERE in that bowl.

"Um, maybe he is sleeping inside of that shell or something," I said, unconvincingly. Where the heck could he have gone???

Fifteen minutes later, Oldest Princess went upstairs, grabbed a shirt off her floor to put on, and then started screaming bloody murder. "It's David!!! He's in my shirt!!!!"

The almost dead, quickly drying out, David JUMPED OUT OF THE FISH BOWL ONTO HER FLOOR AND GOT TANGLED UP IN HER T-SHIRT!!!!

What are the odds of two fish committing fish-i-cide in one home???

I plopped him back in his bowl and he started swimming. Please, Oh, please DO NOT DIE DAVID!!!"

I have no idea how we are going to keep David from jumping out again before this week is up. Please pray that David- and me- survive this week.

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